


subtle

by heydilly



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Competition, M/M, MatsuHana Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heydilly/pseuds/heydilly
Summary: “That’s why we should have a competition. We each do, like, really romantic stuff that totally shows we’re dating, and whoever gets questioned by Oikawa or Iwaizumi first wins.”---Hanamaki and Matsukawa have never really been good at subtle, but in a rare moment of pettiness, they agree to a questionable competition: whoever can make Oikawa and Iwaizumi realize they're dating first, wins. However, things begin to go downhill, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa quickly realize this is going to be harder than they anticipated.





	subtle

**Author's Note:**

> my first matsuhana fic for matsuhana week!! hope u all enjoy, it was a LOT of fun to write hehe

It all started with a clubroom filled with exhausted, brain-dead teenage boys.

“Matsukawa,” Hanamaki began. He was currently lying face-down and starfished over the floor of the Seijou volleyball clubroom. His shirt was halfway over his head, but he was too tired (not lazy, _tired,_ there was a very big difference) to properly change. “Take my shirt off for me.”

 _“Dude,”_ Matsukawa replied. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Well, that’s awkward.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined. “Why can’t you be more like that?”

“What the hell do you want me to do, dress you like you’re a baby?” Iwaizumi retorted. “You have arms for a reason.”

“Besides, it’s not like you guys are, you know…” he gestured at Hanamaki and Matsukawa vaguely.

“Um, I actually don’t know what you mean?” Hanamaki tilted his head up from his comfortably uncomfortable position.

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Yes, please do.”

“In front of these innocent kouhai?” Oikawa piped up. “What a bad role model you are, Iwa-chan!”

“Did he really just say that we’re innocent?” Yahaba muttered to Watari.

“I think so, maybe I’m hearing things.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Iwaizumi continued, looking bewildered. “You’re not, you know, you’re not...like me and Oikawa, _unfortunately_ …”

“‘Unfortunately’?!” Oikawa repeated, looking hurt. “Rude!”

“Anyway, what Iwa-chan’s trying to say―but can’t say because he’s terrible―is that you guys aren’t dating, or in _love,_ or having-”

“You dumbass!” Iwaizumi smacked the back of Oikawa’s head angrily. Yahaba put his hands over Kindaichi’s ears in order to preserve his descending innocence.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa turned their heads to stare at each other, though this was slightly hard considering that one of them was still lying on the ground. They waggled their eyebrows up and down in an intense eyebrow conversation.

_Should we tell them?_

_What, that we’ve secretly been putting our tongues in each other’s mouths?_

_Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, but yeah._

_Nah, let’s wait and see how long it takes them to notice._

_Good idea, man._

_I know, right?_

“You’re right, Oikawa, Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki said loudly. “I guess I wouldn’t mind dating my best bro, though.”

_"Bro.”_

“It’s true love, bromance at its finest."

"Will you be my _brofriend_?"

"Aw, you know I-"

“Ok, that's enough,” Oikawa announced. “Practice is over already, finish changing in the next five minutes!”

 

* * *

 

“Here’s the plan,” Hanamaki declared the next day. “I’m bored, you’re bored, everyone’s probably bored, so let’s have a competition.”

“I don’t see how that has any correlation.”

“Whatever,” Hanamaki waved his hand impatiently. “No one thinks we’re dating, dude. And, like, we haven’t been subtle or anything, so I’m kind of mad no one’s noticed.”

“That’s why we should have a competition. We each do, like, really romantic stuff that totally shows we’re dating, and whoever gets questioned by Oikawa or Iwaizumi first wins.”

“I get what you mean,” Matsukawa stroked his chin thoughtfully. “ _Questioned_ is pretty vague, though. I feel like it’s better if they actually _realize_ we’re dating.”

“Right, right,” Hanamaki agreed. “So, for example, I leave chocolates in your locker, and Oikawa says that he knows we’re dating or something. Then, that means I win, because I left the chocolates.”

“Ok, I’m down,” Matsukawa shrugged. “But couldn’t one of us easily win by, I don’t know, just kissing the other person in front of everyone?”

“How about we can’t do anything that’s too obvious?” Hanamaki suggested. “No kissing, no spray-painting ‘I LOVE HANAMAKI’ over the walls or anything. It’s all got to be subtle stuff.”

"Darn it, I was totally gonna do that."

Hanamaki grinned. “But just to be clear: we’re not working together. This is a fight to the death. Survival of the fittest.”

“Bro, I can’t survive without _you_.”

Hanamaki sighed before kissing his cheek. “You’re so gross. I love you too, but that’s what’s gonna get you killed out here in the wilderness.”

 

* * *

 

**Scene 1: Hands**

 

Matsukawa did not consider himself a very petty person. If one were to rate everyone in Aoba Johsai on a scale of pettiness, it would look something like this:

  1. Oikawa (obviously, of course)
  2. Yahaba
  3. Kyoutani
  4. Kunimi
  5. Iwaizumi
  6. Kindaichi
  7. Hanamaki
  8. Matsukawa
  9. Watari



So, in truth, he ranked second-to-last with only Watari below him (and Watari was, by all means, the nicest person in Seijou), which was really saying something. Therefore, Matsukawa wasn’t petty at all, but seeing as how he was facing Hanamaki, of all people, he already felt the strange desire to win. They decided to take turns in performing ill-conceived acts of romance; Matsukawa had ever-so-graciously volunteered to go first.

In one of their usual practice matches, after a very fine spike indeed by Hanamaki, Matsukawa gave him a high-five.

“Nice kill,” he grinned, and as soon as their hands met, he intertwined their fingers together.

_Boom. Holding hands. Someone has to notice._

“You trying to lose?” Hanamaki murmured into his ear. “It’s not going to work.”

To Matsukawa’s dismay, he was right.

“Mattsun, Makki, you’re holding up the rotation,” Oikawa called out. “Save it for the time-outs, please!”

“Damn it,” Matsukawa muttered.

“Told you so,” Hanamaki smirked. “And stop trying to lose on purpose, you’re sucking the fun out of this.”

“I'm not _trying_ to lose! And you _wish_ I sucked that hard-”

“Not until you said that!”

 

* * *

 

**Scene 2: Flirt**

 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa never really flirted before they got together. Or, well, they never _needed_ to flirt. It was more of just, “dude, you’re fucking hot,” and then, “dude, you’re fucking hot, too,” which eventually lead to―surprise, surprise―a relationship! Whoop, whoop.

But, now that Hanamaki looked back on it all, there were a few _moments._ Times where he stared too long. Lingering touches and the gentle brush of fingertips. The exchange of soft smiles that never seemed to fade away.

Those moments were the key to his new success plan: the subtle art of flirting. However, Hanamaki was never good at _subtle,_ and so it would turn from casual gestures to full-out displays of romance and passion, displays that not even the dumbest, blindest person could ignore.

At least, that’s how he hoped it would go.

“I like your haircut, _Issei,_ ” Hanamaki gently brushed a curly strand of hair out of Matsukawa’s eyes.

“Um, I didn’t get a haircut.”

“That’s a shame,” Hanamaki cooed. “I wouldn’t mind giving you one sometime, I’m _very_ experienced. Why don’t you come over to my place tonight?”

“Dude, you know I’m already coming over-”

“Oh, Hanamaki-san!” Yahaba interjected, running over to them. “Did you say you were giving out haircuts?”

“Er, um, did I? I-I don't think so…” Hanamaki laughed nervously.

“No, I'm pretty sure you did,” Yahaba said, eyeing him suspiciously. “Anyway, do you think you could give me one? I have this fluffy part in my hair that _always_ sticks up, and none of the hairdressers I go to can fix it.”

“Cause your hair’s fucking stupid,” Kyoutani growled suddenly. Hanamaki hadn’t even noticed that he’d been standing there the whole time; it was still difficult getting used to Kyoutani’s presence.

“You should try looking in the mirror, then,” Yahaba snapped back. He turned around to Hanamaki again. “So, what do you say? I understand if you can’t, Hanamaki-san.”

“Um, you see, the thing is, Yahaba-”

“Come on, you can’t just say no,” Matsukawa pointed out, clearly enjoying this too much. “You did say you were _so_ experienced at cutting hair, right?”

“Well, that's different! Uh, Yahaba, my dearest boy, my favorite kouhai, let me just―ergh―I gotta blast!” Hanamaki gave him a thumbs-up before sprinting off to the other side of the gymnasium.

“What a wimp,” Matsukawa shook his head. “Yahaba, have you tried using hair mousse? Trust me, it works wonders…”

 

* * *

 

**Scene 3: Food**

 

The school bell rang around the school, signaling the beginning of lunchtime. Matsukawa and Hanamaki made their way down the hallway before entering Iwaizumi and Oikawa's classroom.

 

“You know, the worst thing we ever decided to do was hang out with Oikawa and Iwaizumi outside of club.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, they’re great. Not as great as us, but close.”

“Eh, _close_ is a little too much. Like, we’re a 10, and they’re a solid 4.”

“Could you not talk about us when we’re literally sitting across from you?” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, pulling out his chopsticks. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Thanks for the meal,” they all echoed, digging into their food.

The third-years of Seijou all occupied the same classroom during lunch. It followed a daily routine: they took out their lunch and started eating, until the small moment of peace was interrupted by girls bombarding Oikawa in front of the doorway. He would walk out, graciously accept the baked goods being offered to him, walk back into the classroom, and then dump the treats onto their combined desks.

“Ok, take what you want,” he said cheerfully (it was practically a tradition to mooch off of Oikawa). His posture stiffened, eyes focusing in hard determination. “Is that milk bread? I’m calling the milk bread.”

“And while you suffer with your plain pieces of bland bread, I will sit here enjoying my delicious cream puffs,” Hanamaki grinned, smacking his lips. “Oikawa, you really need to thank those girls for me sometime.”

Oikawa pursed his lips, probably thinking about how he would kill Hanamaki in a second for some, quote, _plain pieces of bland bread_. “I already have, Makki. I might have let it slip that you like your cream puffs poisoned or something, but I don’t know, don’t ask me.”

“Loke ir care,” Hanamaki said, mouth full of cream puff. He swallowed. “If I’m going to die, might as well die happy.”

“You have a little something,” Matsukawa pointed out. There was a white smudge of vanilla cream in the corner of Hanamaki’s mouth.

“Oh, could you get it for me?”

“On it,” Matsukawa said, wiping it away with the sole of his thumb. He turned his head, noticing Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s stares out of the corner of his eye.

“Were you two always so...touchy?” Oikawa tilted his head to the side.

 _Thank god,_ Matsukawa thought. “I don’t know, maybe we’ve gotten more touchy recently. _Very_ touchy. In fact, if we weren’t in class, I would totally-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Iwaizumi cut him off. “Can’t you guys ever just eat in peace?”

“Peace is boring,” Oikawa protested, picking up a roasted pepper with his chopsticks. He launched it with the fine-tuned accuracy of a skilled setter, and it landed directly on top of Iwaizumi’s eyelid.

Iwaizumi slowly peeled the pepper off his eyelid with the murderous intent of someone who had, not for the first time, experienced Oikawa Tooru flinging food at his face.

“I-I’m sorry!” Oikawa hid behind a chair, sensing the incoming danger. “It was―an accident! A complete and total accident!”

“Tell that to the pepper juice in my eye!” Iwaizumi roared, chucking a piece of mackerel in Oikawa’s direction. “It stings like hell, Asskawa!”

“Was that your attempt in exposing us?” Hanamaki turned to Matsukawa, looking exasperated. He raised his voice a little over the sound of Iwaizumi's yelling.

“Yeah, what was wrong with it?” Matsukawa said defiantly.

“Too simple,” Hanamaki sighed. “You have to be in it to win it!”

“Says the person who ran away from Yahaba during morning practice,” Matsukawa retorted. “You’re really not doing any better.”

“Hmmph,” Hanamaki sniffed. “I’ll show you tomorrow. It’s going to be _good.”_

“I’m totally looking forward to it,” Matsukawa said flatly. “No, really, I am.”

“Iwa-chan, give me back my handkerchief!”

“Once you clean up the mess you made, I will!”

“I forgot they were still here,” Hanamaki groaned.

Matsukawa checked the time. “Should we just leave? Lunch is almost over anyway.”

“Yeah, they can fix it themselves, right?”

 **“** They're the ace and captain for a reason. I mean, maybe not for a _good_ reason, but a reason nonetheless."

 

* * *

 

**Scene 4: Poetry**

 

The next morning, Matsukawa entered the clubroom, unaware of the horrors that awaited him.

“Good morning,” he called out. Oikawa, Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, Kindaichi, and Kunimi were already there.

“Good morning,” they answered, absentmindedly changing into shorts and t-shirts for practice.

Matsukawa walked up to his locker. He entered in the combination, and as he pulled it open, a small envelope fell out. It was covered in little heart stickers, and there was a red lipstick stain on the front that looked suspiciously as though someone had kissed it there.

“What’s that, Mattsun?” Oikawa glanced over Matsukawa’s shoulder.

“No idea,” Matsukawa lied, though he actually had a very good idea in his head. _Hanamaki, you bastard._

“Well, go ahead and open it!” Oikawa egged him on. “Looks like a love letter to me.”

“How do you know what a love letter looks like?” Iwaizumi questioned, before face-palming. “Wait, nevermind, I forgot you have an entire fanclub.”

“That’s not true,” Oikawa pouted. “I can’t help that I’m popular!”

Matsukawa tore the envelope open, to reveal a slightly crumpled piece of paper. He unfolded it carefully, eyes widening.

“What is it?” Kindaichi said curiously.

“It’s...a haiku,” Matsukawa finally responded. He squinted. “Wait, there’s more than one.”

“Why don’t you read them out loud?” Hanamaki suggested. There was a scheming glint in his eye.

Matsukawa sighed before clearing his throat.

 

_To: Matsukawa Issei_

 

  1. _Eyebrows_



_Sad caterpillars_

_Form your beautiful eyebrows_

_I’ve fallen in love._

 

  1. _Memes_



_I do not need memes_

_When your face is all I see_

_Always dank for you._

 

  1. _Thirst_



_You make me thirsty_

_Not for you, but for water_

_Stop sweating so much._

 

  1. _Tall_



_You are tall and strong_

_Like a forest of oak trees_

_Nature’s greatest gift._

 

“Who the hell is writing this?” Iwaizumi demanded. “What the fuck? What the ever-loving _fuck?”_

“Wait, there’s one more,” Matsukawa said,

 

  1. _Vending Machine_



_I saw you looking_

_At a school vending machine_

_Need snacks? Come eat me._

 

_From: your secret admirer ♡_

 

“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” Iwaizumi groaned.

“What a work of art!” Oikawa said gleefully. “Looks like someone’s got a secret admirer!”

“What kind of secret admirer tells you that your eyebrows look like sad caterpillars?!” Iwaizumi demanded. Kindaichi and Kunimi hid their laughter behind their hands. “This sounds more like a secret _stalker.”_

“I’m really quite flattered,” Matsukawa shrugged.

"But don't you want to find out who wrote this?" Oikawa prompted. "I'm dying to know now!"

“No, not really,” Matsukawa said hastily. “I’m sure it’s just a prank.”

“Only some loser would actually prank someone like this,” Oikawa insisted. Hanamaki shuffled uncomfortably.

“Well, we know it has to be a girl,” Iwaizumi said, pointing at the lipstick mark on the envelope.

“Boys can wear lipstick too!” Oikawa argued. “I, myself, look really good in coral pink, thank you very much.”

“Did _you_ send this, then?”

“Oh my god, no,” Oikawa said, offended. “My poetry-writing skills are _way_ above that. Also, as much as I love Mattsun, I’m already taken.” He gave Iwaizumi a heart-eyes, lovey-dovey, shit-eating grin (it was disgustingly sweet).

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi flushed. “Anyway, whoever sent it must have known that Matsukawa is in the volleyball club. So it has to be someone you’re friends with, or at the very least, someone you know.”

“I don’t have many girl friends,” Matsukawa admitted.

“Seriously? Why not?”

“I’m too cool and intimidating for them, of course.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Oikawa smirked. “Still, I wonder who it is.”

“Perhaps,” Hanamaki began, “the culprit is someone from this club.” He let the weight of his words sink in. “After all, they’d have to know where the volleyball clubroom is, and whose locker is Matsukawa’s.”

“Was it you, Kindaichi? Kunimi?” Oikawa raised one of his eyebrows accusatively.   

“I have better things to do with my life,” Kunimi said flatly.

“Wasn’t me, either,” Kindaichi added.

Suddenly, the doors opened to reveal Kyoutani, Yahaba, and Watari entering the clubroom.

“Good mor-”

“Was it you, Mad Dog-chan?” Kyoutani jumped back from Oikawa’s extended index finger, scowling. Without saying a word, he walked away, heading towards his own locker.

“Rude!” Oikawa cried out. “Iwa-chan, ask if it was him.”

“You really think he left Matsukawa a love letter?”

“Ok, good point. Who could it be, then?” Oikawa wailed, throwing up his hands in desperation.

“What’s happening?” Yahaba frowned.

“Someone sent me a letter with a bunch of haikus in it,” Matsukawa answered. “There were really terrible. And badly-written.” He smirked in Hanamaki’s direction.

“They weren’t that bad,” Hanamaki protested. “Clearly, the person put a lot of effort into it. I mean, it probably took a lot of time to find all those heart stickers. And steal their mom’s lipstick to kiss it and stuff.”

“That’s very specific,” Oikawa mused. He smiled slyly. “Maybe it was _you,_ Makki.”

“Er, well-”

“Aha, just kidding!” Oikawa slapped him on the back. “Imagine if it was you, wouldn’t that be _hilarious_? Honestly, it’s just so impossible!”

“ _Riiight_ , so funny, haha, ha,” Hanamaki forced a laugh. _Smile through the pain, smile through the pain._ “What a knee-slapper.”

“Tell me about it,” Oikawa snorted. “I’ll have to do some more detective research later! I’m going to find out who this is if it’s the last thing I do, damn it.”

“What admirable conviction,” Matsukawa marveled. “Iwaizumi, you really got yourself a keeper.”

“Really? I think he's mostly just nosy.”

“Iwa-chan! Mattsun!”

As they continued to bicker, Hanamaki glumly slipped on his kneepads in the corner. Yet another failure. _What a disaster._

 

* * *

 

**Scene 5: Date**

 

At exactly 12:31 pm, Hanamaki and Matsukawa walked to the classroom they ate lunch in everyday. The hallway was packed with people swarming about, so it was at times like these that they savored being tall.

“I didn’t think they were this dumb,” Hanamaki grit his teeth, making his way past the crowd of people.

“They’re not really dumb. Just oblivious, I think.”

“No, they’re also pretty dumb, too,” Hanamaki insisted. “We’ve just been so _obvious,_ and no one even has a clue.”

“It sounds like you don’t really care about winning anymore,” Matsukawa observed.

“No, I don’t,” Hanamaki scowled. “I just want them to know we’re dating! And that we’re in love! And gay for each other!”

A short girl passing by gave Hanamaki a judgemental look.

“Nothing to worry about,” he called after her. “We’re just gay!”

“Ok, now you’re just embarrassing me,” Matsukawa sighed. He opened the door to Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s classroom.

“You’re _late,_ ” Oikawa sang. “Now you get half the amount of dessert!”

“That was never a rule,” Hanamaki argued, scandalized. “This system is corrupt. Corrupt, I tell you!”

“The government is wasting our taxes,” Oikawa pounded his fist on the table. “Cream puffs will be boycotted in the next ten years! All hail our lord, Oikawa Tooru!”

“Not this again,” Iwaizumi massaged his temples.

“It’ll be over soon,” Matsukawa said soothingly. “The storm of idiocy will pass.”

After a few minutes of discussing government conspiracy theories, Hanamaki and Oikawa eventually calmed down.

“Thanks for the meal,” they announced, opening up their bentos.

Matsukawa knew what he had to do at that moment. Though he wouldn’t admit it, he had to agree that, quite frankly, it was _annoying_ that no one had noticed anything about their relationship. And so, he had to take action somehow.

“Makki, Mattsun, want to hang out with us on Saturday?” Oikawa asked. “We’re marathoning Cowboy Bebop!”

“Sorry, I can’t,” Matsukawa apologized. “I...have a date.” He subtly nudged Hanamaki’s arm.

“Um, y-yeah, me too,” Hanamaki coughed.

“W-w―wh-wha... _what?”_ Oikawa sputtered. “You two...have a date?!”

“Who is it?” Iwaizumi interrogated. He suddenly looked very uninterested in his rice.

“I’ll give you a hint. He’s, um-”

“Ok, so it’s a dude, nice.”

“-He’s pretty tall. And his hair is a weird color. Kind of, like, pinkish-brown."

"Is that even a hair color?" Oikawa wondered.

"I don't think so," Iwaizumi looked deep in thought. "What about you, Hanamaki? Who's your date?"

"Well, it's also a guy. And he's really tall, too. His hair is kind of curly, and he has really thick eyebrows."

 _Gee, thanks,_ Matsukawa thought.

“Is it Akiyama-kun from the soccer club?”

“Nope.”

“Fukuda? Hayakawa? Higashi? Iida?”

“No, no, no, _and_ no.”

“Fujiwara? Okura? Matsui?”

“No, no, no. And how do you know all of these people?”

“I have connections,” Oikawa said smugly. “Iwa-chan, any ideas?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”

“Why don’t you two just tell us?” Oikawa whined. “We can keep a secret!”

“Iwaizumi can, but you can’t,” Hanamaki rolled his eyes. “Do you guys seriously not know?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Oh my _god.”_ Hanamaki rested his head in his hands. “I want to die.”

“Don’t we all?” Matsukawa patted him on the back.

“What are you talking about?” Iwaizumi frowned.

“It’s so obvious who it is! It’s _been_ obvious, for like, the past five months!”

“Could you please elaborate?”

Without missing a beat, Hanamaki leaned in and kissed Matsukawa. It was really loud, and wet (mainly because Matsukawa still had food in his mouth). At least half the classroom turned to stare, eyes wide.

“WE’RE DATING, OIKAWA! YOU DUMB FUCK!” Hanamaki hollered as they broke apart. "YOU TOO, IWAIZUMI!"

“...Oh,” Oikawa looked like he had just gone to heaven and spoken to God himself. “Oh.”

“You’re dating him,” Iwaizumi pointed to Hanamaki, and then to Matsukawa. “He’s dating you. You’re dating. Each other.”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” Matsukawa grinned.

“I want to die,” Oikawa moaned. “I thought―all those times, it was just―I teased you all the time about being a married couple! And you denied it so much that I just gave up on it!”

“Excuses, excuses,” Hanamaki shook his head. “We were obviously in love, man.”

“I suppose,” Oikawa said glumly. A devilish smile lit up his face. “You know what this means?”

“Double dates!”

“Hell, yeah!” Hanamaki grinned, at the same time Iwaizumi said, “Hell, no, Crappykawa!”

“I’m down,” Matsukawa agreed. He fist-bumped Hanamaki. “Now we can finally make out in front of you guys.”

“I’ll be sure to film it, then,” Oikawa waggled his eyebrows.

“What the hell? You weirdo,” Iwaizumi flicked Oikawa’s forehead. “We’re _not_ going to film it, trust me.”

“Seriously? I wouldn’t mind.”

“Yeah, me either.”

“Oh my god, I’m surrounded by creeps,” Iwaizumi sighed.

“You’ll just have to get used to it,” Matsukawa shrugged. He leaned in for another kiss, and Hanamaki gave in.

 

**End of Act 1: Love**

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading peeps, feel free to leave kudos and comment/feedback!! luv u guys xx


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